


Stark's Moving Castle

by oscarwilderobbieross



Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, M/M, Magic, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steampunk, Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-21 00:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12445623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oscarwilderobbieross/pseuds/oscarwilderobbieross
Summary: Steve Rogers' physical health leaves him unable to fight for his country, so he spends his day in a dull hat shop, hoping for some excitement. He get's excitement in the form of Anthony Stark, a charismatic but arrogant magician. However, his attention comes at a price, as the Witch of the Waste comes into Steve's shop and demands information he doesn't have. Cursed to spend his days as an old man, he goes to find the mysterious Anthony, hoping to find the solution to break the curse.He didn't count on falling in love, though.





	1. The One Where They Meet

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Howl's Moving Castle au. I was discussing this in the Discord, so this goes out to them. I hope you enjoy it! I'll try and update it as often as possible!

Steve Rogers would have called his life ordinary in every sense of the word, living in the city and working as a milliner in a small shop, under the strict and watchful eye of Mrs. Carter. Her daughter Peggy was incredibly bright and worked in the army, training the newest recruits with Colonel Phillips.

Steve himself had tried to enlist, but was rejected numerous times due to his small frame and weak health. The job was a godsend, according to his mother, but Steve found it incredibly dull. The shop was quiet, Mrs. Carter left often and for long stretches of time, leaving Steve to rush through orders and mutter complaints to his lifeless creations.

Sometimes he entertained himself by decorating the hatboxes, or Mrs. Carter let him repaint the faded lettering on the shop window.

Saturdays were a half-day for him, where he got to leave the shop at twelve in the afternoon, his handmade hat on his head and a basket loaded with heavy picnic supplies in hand. He’d always take the tram, down to the bakery where Bucky worked and wait for him to finish his deliveries.

They’d go to the fields on the outskirts of town and have a picnic in the fresh air. His mother told him it would help his lungs, and Bucky would always take the heavy basket from him, to make sure he could make the walk without running out of breath.

In this time of war, especially a war where technology and magic worked so close together, people started talking of the Witch of the Waste again. It was said that the witch had threatened the life of the King’s brother, Prince Sam. After his disappearance, while the King’s personal magician had gone into the Waste to deal with the witch, it was told that she had not only failed, but had also gotten killed.

Months later, a tall castle appeared on the hills, blowing smoke out of it’s thin turrets. Sometimes you could see it moving, but Steve didn’t know if he believed that. For all he knew, it was a stupid intimidation tactic, used by those who were opposing the King. People believed it was home to the witch, at first, before their stories got even wilder and harder to swallow.

An arrogant wizard lived there, if you believed gossip and whispers, so vain and evil that he stole the souls of those he believed young and beautiful enough to feed himself. No son or daughter under the age of twenty-five was allowed to go outside without warning. The mayor of their town even went so far as to set up a curfew.

A curfew that was happily ignored by Steve, as he walked out of the shop on a beautiful Saturday in May, determined to drag Bucky out to the hills by his shirtsleeves if he had to. The week had been incredibly taxing, with Mrs. Carter only growing more agitated as the rumors about this dangerous wizard grew, snapping and yelling at Steve more than she usually did.

He’d missed his tram, and he had no hopes of running after it and jumping on, like the more daring passengers tended to do. It would result in a lot of pain and embarrassment on his part, so he decided to walk. He didn’t know it at the time, but after that, his life would never be the same again.

* * *

 As he saw the two soldiers approach, he kept his head low, letting the brim of his straw hat hide his face, staggering back as they bumped into his shoulders. He looked up, a little flustered, the picnic basket slipping from his hands and hitting the cobble stones with a dull thud, the carefully stacked plates and cups clattering.

“Oi, careful there, mister. You should watch where you’re going, it’s dangerous out on the streets lately. You could walk into all kinds of types.”

Steve smiled politely, a little tight-lipped, reaching down to pick up his basket again, but one of the soldiers was faster, as the other slung an arm around Steve’s shoulder. “Me and my friend here are on our way to a bar, what do you say you join us? We’ll get you home before curfew, and you could share your lovely picnic with us soldiers. As a way of repaying us for our service!” Steve shook his head, frowning at the man as he pulled him along.

“No, I need to be somewhere. I can’t-” He stopped as the man next to him froze, and he realized there was another man standing in front of him. He looked up, surprised.

His mouth fell open as the man moved his hand, an amused smirk on his face as the two men next to Steve straightened up with stunned faces, turning on their heels and marching off down the alleyway towards Main Street.

“I- uh-”

Steve stuttered a little awkwardly, feeling himself blush as the man tilted his head and looked at him expectedly. “Thanks?” Somehow, Steve made it a question, which had not been his intention, but the strange man smiled anyway. “You said you needed to be somewhere?”

“Huh?” Steve asked, blinking at him, before realizing he’d probably overheard them while he was approaching. “Oh. Yeah, I do.” He said quickly, staring at his basket as it started floating in front of his face. “Let me walk you.” The man suggested, and Steve gasped as the man took his hands and somehow, his feet lifted off the ground. Was he flying?

He looked at the man as he wobbled, floating up together. The man steadied him, and he was only lightly holding his hands as he started walking through the air, gesturing for Steve to do the same.

Steve felt a little silly as he followed the man’s example, a grin spreading over his face as moved through the air. He looked down at the ground, as they only went up higher, over the rooftops. He could see people under them, pointing up and whispering to each other.

It was so unbelievable, he wondered if this was all a dream. The only thing convincing him of the fact that this was very much real was the picnic basket floating in front of his face.

As the man set him down on the balcony of the living space above the bakery, he looked back at the man, standing on the wide ledge, the same amused smirk on his face. “Who are you?” Steve asked, suddenly realizing he hadn’t even asked. What would his mother think? “My name is the great wizard, Anthony Stark. But you can call me Tony,” “My name is Steve.” Steve told him, smiling. “Thank you for.. helping me.”

Tony just smiled back at him, before shooting him a wink and jumping off the balcony. Steve made a startled noise, running to the ledge and leaning over it to look down at the street, half-expecting to see a gruesome scene on the cobblestones.

But he was gone.


	2. The One With The Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's dreamlike encounter with the charismatic wizard has some serious consequences.

Downstairs, at the Cafe Chezari, James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes was busy wrapping up a box of chocolates, smiling at the lady that was patiently waiting for him to finish, a cheeky smile on her face as she leaned in to whisper something to him.

“If there’s a chocolate called ‘James’, I’ll take that too.”

James simply chuckled at that, although he did shove the box towards the lady with a bit more force than he anticipated. “We hope to see you back again, Miss.” As the lady turned to leave, one of the other shop assistants tugged at his apron, whispering something urgent in his ear.

“My friend?”

He left the counter and quickly ran up the stairs, ignoring the shouts from his boss, warning him to return quickly. As he saw Steve standing in the hallway, he frowned. “They said you were up on the balcony. Surely, you haven’t learned how to fly, have you?”

It had been a joke, but Steve’s dopey grin was a little worrisome. “Oh my god, what?”

“I feel like I’m in a dream, Buck.” Steve simply said, and Bucky approached him, patting him on the back. He looked up as his boss came up the stairs, shooting Steve a worried look. He was aware of the way the two young men looked after each other, especially with Steve’s various health issues.

“James, why don’t you use the office?” He suggested, gesturing to the door. Bucky smiled at the man, shaking his head. “That’s alright. I don’t want to keep you from your job. I’ll just be outside for a bit.”

Bucky led Steve to the shed, where no one would be able to listen in on their conversation without being blatantly nosy, staring at the man as Steve told him about what had happened.

“What? Isn’t he a wizard?” There was definitely a worried tone to Bucky’s voice now, frowning at his friend.

“He was so kind, he basically saved me, Bucky.” Steve said, feeling a little defensive. “I don’t know why, he seemed rushed. Like he was being followed or something. I swear I could see some weird shapes as we floated up.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” Bucky suggested, grinning as Steve scowled at him. “Maybe it was a trick. He would have stolen your heart for sure, tore it out of your chest and ate it.” He pulled a face, and Steve shoved him.

“No way, that’s all gossip. Even if he does, that’s only the beautiful ones.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but his expression quickly got more serious. “You should be more careful, I’ve heard the Witch of the Waste came out of hiding, and she’s hanging about in the city.”

There was something unreadable in Bucky’s expression then, and Steve wanted to ask about it, before a man appeared at the window. “Bucky, the Madeleines are done!” Bucky looked up, huffing. “Just a second!” “Alright!”

Steve quickly got up from the barrel he’d been sitting on, brushing invisible dust of his pants and putting his hat back on. “Oh, I should get back home.”

“I thought we were going on a picnic?” Bucky asked, and Steve shrugged. “You’re invaluable today. Raincheck?”

Bucky chuckled, and gave Steve a brief hug. “You got it,”

As Steve turned to leave, Bucky stopped him, squeezing his shoulder.

“You work too hard, Stevie. A hat shop isn’t somewhere you want to spend the rest of your life, is it?”

Steve blinked at him, shrugging weakly.

“Well...”

One of the shop assistants passed by them, finished with her shift and still busily folding up her apron. “Bye, Buck. See you tomorrow!”

Bucky called out to Steve after greeting her, giving him a look.

“Come by the shop again, alright?!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go.”

“You have to make your own path in life, Stevie!”

Steve sighed as he got back to the hat shop, turning off the lights and lighting a candle to help him see as he locked the door, walking to the backdoor of the shop to leave, freezing and looking back as he heard the little jingle of the bell.

Someone had entered the shop.

“Oh, the shop is closed. I’m sorry, I thought I’d locked-” Steve faltered as the woman spoke.

“Cheap shop, cheap hats… And you’re quite cheap too.”

The woman was stunning, red hair falling in waves over her shoulders. A tight-fitting black dress under a luxurious fur coat, her beautiful face partly covered in shadows due to a big wide-brimmed hat that had been decorated by a single feather.

“What a wretched dump of a shop.”

There was a cruel little smirk on her face, and while Steve always learned to be as polite as possible for customers, this made his stomach sour. He marched to the door determinedly, opening it with a brusque gesture.

“Please leave.”

The woman chuckled, and Steve stared as two globulous human-shaped figured slid through the doorway, standing at the woman’s side.

“You’re quite the brave one, competing with the Witch of the Waste.”

Steve looked up, flabbergasted as he stared at the woman.

“Witch of the Waste?!”

He gasped as the woman flew towards him in a blur, enveloping him briefly in a thick black fog, a final command ringing through his head, “You can’t speak about the curse to anyone. Say hello to Anthony for me.” She grinned, before leaving the shop.

The door fell closed with a final jingle from the bell.

Outside, the shadowy men helped the Witch into her carriage, before disappearing back into the night.

* * *

Back in the shop, Steve was staring at his hands.

Were they even his? They were so… _old_.

He could feel his breathing go unsteady, so he rushed himself to one of the mirrors, almost falling as he stumbled back with a shriek of terror. Oh god, that was him.

He took a few shaky breaths, walking around the shop to try and calm himself down, swallowing hard as he walked back to the mirror again and found his mirror image unchanged. Rubbing his old hands together anxiously, he grabbed the keys and his hat, blowing out the candle before walking outside and locking the backdoor.

He walked down the alleyway, muttering to himself to calm down the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't realize, Natasha is the Witch. I thought it would be a fun nod to her first comic book appearance, as the vengeful Black Widow who vows to take down Tony Stark as he rejects her advances.


	3. The One Where Steve Takes A Hike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve leaves town to go and find a cure for his curse.

In the morning, Steve was woken by knocking on his door, his mother’s voice coming through the door. It made him jump, and as he looked down at his hands, he realized nothing of the last day had been a dream. He was still wrinkly, old and terribly achey.

Hurriedly, he pulled a shawl over his old face, looking back at the door in a panic. “Don’t come in! I’m ill!” He heard his mother, pulling her hand away from the door handle. “Oh, Stevie! Do you have a cold? You sound like a ninety-year old man!” She chuckled softly, while Steve huffed, wondering if she’d ever know how accurate she’d been.

“It’s alright, ma! I’ll just sleep all day!”

“Feel better, alright?” His mother called back, before going downstairs again, and Steve didn’t move, before he heard the door slam, signaling her departure.

Luckily, it was a Sunday, and Steve didn’t have to open the shop for any customers, just hat upon hat. They were all waiting for him, but they’d never be decorated now, as Steve had decided he’d need to find a way to get rid of his curse.

He made his way down to the kitchen as he dressed, his hat firmly planted on his silvery hair. He’d pulled his shawl over his shoulders, and he groaned as he loaded a basket with bread and cheese, a bottle of milk and some money.

He’d set out for the hills, finding Anthony Stark’s moving and groaning castle, and hopefully convincing him to help. He didn’t know if he had enough coins to convince a wizard as powerful and vain as him, but he didn’t have any other options.

He sighed as he packed his inhaler as well, albeit with reluctance. He already had trouble getting down the stairs, and he couldn’t imagine how he’d survive the hike into the mountains without it. He hoped he wouldn’t be gone too long, especially since he didn’t want to worry his mother or Bucky.

As he got on the road, he quickly realized how different he felt, walking through town as an old man. People actually made an effort to accommodate him, helping him onto the tram as he struggled, people smiling at him as he glanced at them.

He was used to moving out of the way, people shoving at him when it was too busy on the street. Most times, people saw him as a nuance, one of the only young men in town who wasn’t enlisted.

Bucky had been a soldier, but injury sent him back from the frontline. He was a hero in town, which was part of why he was so popular. Steve often felt like he was holding Bucky back from finding a nice girl and settling down, because Bucky felt so responsible over him.

He sighed as he sat down in one of the seats on the tram, looking out of the window as they passed street after street, the dense housing changing to more open space and woodland after a while.

He got off at the last stop, thanking the driver, who enquired about his purpose of going into the hills. Steve figured it must look a little silly, such an old man going on a hike all by himself.

“My sister lives up there, young man. I’m visiting for a while. The fresh air is good for the old joints, you know?”

The smoothness of the lie surprised him, and he shook his head, waving at the driver before setting up by himself, preparing for the steep climb up ahead as he pulled his shawl tighter around his body.

He walked for what seemed like ages, but as he turned around to look back to town, he realized, much to his own horror, that he could still see the rooftop of his own house. Wheezing, he sat down on a large boulder, digging around in his bag for his inhaler.

“I.. walk all this time… only to end up as high as my own rooftop..” Steve grumbled, breathing in air harshly as he closed his lips around the tube, his hands shaking as he dropped it back into his bag.

“I’d better find a stick..” He muttered to himself, getting up again and walking onto the grassy moors, noticing a nice thick branch that was leaning against a group of boulders.

“That should do nicely..” He decided, gripping it tightly and pulling, groaning as it didn’t give way, seemingly stuck. Pulling harder, there were little droplets of sweat forming on his brow, and he let out of startled sound as it suddenly shot loose, making him fall back.

He stared up at the branch, as it rose, and he quickly realized it wasn’t just a branch at all. It was a worn old scarecrow, hopping in place on his one pedestal.

He was wearing a battered jacket, a straw hat on his head, which was made out of one big turnip. He had simple spots of black for eyes, a big toothy grin under them.

“You’re not a regular old scarecrow, are you?” The scarecrow stayed silent, but that might have been the most telling. “A cursed scarecrow and a cursed old man.. What a pair.”

He sighed, looking at the path ahead of him. “I still need a good sturdy stick, though.” He mused, looking at the scarecrow as he pointed him in the direction of another pile of sticks.

“Oh, that’ll do nicely! Thank you.. I think I’ll call you Turnip-head. You don’t mind, do you?”

The scarecrow didn’t say a word, but as Steve walked back to the path again, continuing his climb, he heard the dull thud of the hopping behind him.

“Will you keep following me? I haven’t got anything else for you, except for some bread and cheese.”

Nonetheless, Turnip-head seemed determined to follow him, all the way into the afternoon, when he sat down again to have lunch. Unwrapping the block of cheese and the bread he took from the kitchen, he chewed silently, looking at the fire he’d made to keep himself warm. Night would come soon, and if he did’t find a place to stay, he’d be in trouble.

“Hey, Turnip-head.. You don’t happen to know any place where I could stay the night around here, do you?”

He sighed as the scarecrow hopped away, disappearing from view. “I suppose not, then..”

He finished his lunch in peace, folding the cloth he’d wrapped everything in and putting it back into the basket.

* * *

As he started walking again, night fell around him. First slowly, then suddenly a lot faster. It felt rather terrifying, especially as he realized he couldn’t really see all that well, and he hadn’t brought a lamp or anything.

But where would he go? He couldn’t walk all the way back. As he turned, he glanced back at the city, watching all the lights dancing around in the city.

He decided to keep walking, especially since he didn’t have a place to stay. He frowned as he saw the figure of Turnip-head appear at the horizon again, hopping up to him.

He didn’t have a lot of time to wonder what the scarecrow was doing back here, as she saw the monstrous shape of the castle looming at the horizon.

It wasn’t at all the elegant and gloomy brick castle he’d imagined, but instead it was a strange Frankenstein creation of different materials and shapes. It stood on four chicken shaped legs, and there was steam coming out every turret as they moved.

As it moved over him, crossing the stone path and moving further into the mountains, Turnip-head started hopping after it quickly. Steve suddenly realized that he intended for Steve to follow the castle.

He gasped, hobbling after the scarecrow and calling out for the castle to stop moving. He could feel his chest tightening as he came closer to the front door, grabbing at the door handle and taking a leap of faith.

As the door opened for him, he practically fell inside, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it heavily. He reached into his basket, grabbing at his inhaler and taking deep swallows of breath, the little machine clattering on the tile floor as he stumbled onto the steps, into a dark living room. He fell onto a chair, looking dizzily at the dancing flame in the fireplace.

“ _Who are you?_ ”

Steve looked up as he heard a voice behind him, frowning at the awkward looking boy that was standing behind him. “How did you get in?” He wondered, looking almost guiltily at the fireplace.

“ **I let h** **im** **in.** ”

Steve looked back at the fireplace, staring at the dancing orange flame with an animated face, which was grinning back at him. “How are you? I’m Jarvis, I run this castle.” Steve stared at the flame, before looking back at the kid.

“I’m Steve, what’s your name?” He asked, smiling weakly at the worried-looking boy.

“Harley.”

He frowned, looking at the door. “Tony is going to be mad about this. Jarvis never lets anyone in, you’re not a magician, are you?” He asked, suddenly suspicious.

“I wouldn’t have let him in, if he was.” Jarvis told the boy, flaring up for a bit.

Harley looked back at the two of them, before pulling open one of the doors and slamming it behind her.

‘You’re not an old man, are you?” Jarvis asked Steve, who looked at him alarmed. “Throw another log on the fire, would you? If I go out, we’re in trouble.”

Steve nodded automatically, picking up one of the logs next to the fireplace and putting it on there, watching the flame spread.

“You’re not the only one cursed here, you know?” Jarvis mentioned, and Steve looked at him. “Really?”

“I’m under contract. I’m forced to work for him.”

“For who?”

“Tony. We’re connected. I want to get out of it. Why don’t we make a deal?”

Steve raised a brow, frowning. “A deal?” “Yeah, You help me out, I help you out.” He smiled, looking at the flame. “What are you?” Jarvis huffed, flaring up again. “I’m a fire demon.”

“I can’t tell you anything about-” Steve choked, grabbing his throat. “I can’t-”

“That’s a curse, yeah.” Jarvis decided, sighing.

“I’m the same, I can’t talk about my contract. You can’t talk about your curse. You’ll need at least a month to figure it out.”

“How am I going to let him stay here?” Steve asked, remembering what Harley had said.

“Don’t worry about it. If I let you in, he’ll trust you.”

Steve looked at the demon, leaning back into the chair, thinking about it for a while.

“ _Deal._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Jarvis are a pair to be reckoned with.


	4. The One With The Red Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes his residence in the Stark household, but he brings something unpleasant along with him.

As Steve woke up in the chair, he groaned as he felt the crick in his neck, and everywhere else. It took a lot of effort for him to even rise from the chair, his bones and sore joints cracking as he stretched. He yawned, looking over at the fire which consisted of a low rose colored flame and white ash. It made him wonder if last night had all been real, looking around the room.

In the light of day, it was truly filthy, with piles of ash pushed onto the stone around the fireplace. It left black streaks on the wooden floors, which were hard to see with the crumpled up papers, messes of filthy clothing and dirty dishes. Thick cobwebs hung from the wooden beams and the ceiling. It made his skin crawl, and he decided he had his work cut out for him, glancing at one of the doors as it opened.

“You’re still here.” The boy, Harley, appeared. He was suffering from bedhead, and Steve figured that’s probably where the bedrooms were. “Do you want breakfast?” He asked, ignoring the boy’s remark. As Harley nodded, and Steve moved towards the kitchen, he passed the window. Freezing, he suddenly realized they weren’t in the mountains anymore.

He was looking at a street, paved with small stones. There were houses opposite it, and he frowned as he saw a woman open her front door to sweep some dust outside. As he looked over the low roofs, he could see the sun reflected in the sea. He’d never seen it before, and it was truly beautiful. Ant-like sailboats passed by on the horizon. “Where are we?”

At that point, the doorbell rang, and Harley quickly grabbed a hooded cloak out of a closet, the fire flaming up again. Steve figured he hadn’t been imaging anything after all.

“Kingsbury!”

Jarvis called out, and Steve stared as a beard appeared on Harley’s face, before he pulled open the door to two men in uniform, looking awfully official, “Orders from the King for the Wizard Pendragon!” One of them exclaimed, and Steve got up to walk to the door as well. The men didn’t spare him a glance as they spoke to Harley again. “Make sure to tell him to come by the palace.”

Harley nodded, watching the soldiers walk off. Steve leaned out of the doorway, looking around and frowning as he saw the distant towers of the King’s castle. “But.. how did we get to Kingsbury?”

“Stay indoors, or you’ll lose your nose.” Harley warned, closing the door as Steve stepped back. “Don’t hover around like that.” The boy walked back to the kitchen, and Steve waited for his back to be turned before opening the door again.

He startled and slammed the door closed as Harley’s raised voice sounded behind him again. “That’s enough! I’ll get angry!” Steve let out a breath, looking at the round disc next to the door, which showed four triangles in different colors.

“This is definitely a magical house..”

His eyes roamed over the four panels, looking at the different colors, before looking back at Harley. “Where does the black one go?” The boy shrugged, not bothering to look at him. “Only Mr. Stark knows. I’m having breakfast.”

He walked up the steps to the kitchen, watching Harley as he took out a loaf of bread. Browsing through the kitchen himself, he quickly found strips of bacon and some eggs, holding them up. “You have these too, you know?”

“Can’t use the fire without Mr. Stark.”

Harley swept his arm over the table, shoving the contents off to one side and putting down a plate and his bread. With a shrug, Steve took a pan off the hook above the fireplace, looking at Harley. “I’ll make it for you.”

“Good luck with that, Jarvis only listens to Mr. Stark.”

Jarvis flared up a bit more at that, sticking out his tongue to Steve.

“That’s right I don’t cook for you.”

Steve sighed, sitting down by the fire again. “Please, Jarvis? Do me a favor?” He asked, smiling at the smaller demon. “No! I don’t take orders from anyone!” Steve folded his arms, scowling at Jarvis. “I’ll pour water on you, If you don’t do what I said,” in a lower voice, he added “Or I’ll just tell Anthony about our little deal?”

* * *

 

Jarvis clicked his tongue, obviously resigned to his new fate. “I should have never let this grandpa in..” Steve smirked, “So, what will you do?” He asked, getting up and putting the pan on Jarvis, who said nothing but simply reduced back to a simple flame.

“That’s what I thought, good fire.”

Placing the bacon in, he grabbed a wooden spoon, moving it around in the pan. Jarvis clicked his tongue again, and he could hear the little voice rise from under the pan. “I hope your bacon burnsss..” From his position, Steve couldn’t see Harley staring at him, muttering to himself. “Jarvis is actually doing what someone else than Mr. Stark told him to..”

“I want tea too, do you have a pot?” Steve asked Harley, who nodded quickly and went to fill it up with water before handing it to Steve.

The door rang, and Anthony came sweeping through the door, in a whirl of fabric, before taking off his cloak and tossing it over the chair that Steve had been sitting on.

“Welcome back, Mr. Stark!” Harley exclaimed, rushing to the man to hand him the scroll. “You have a letter from the King, Mr. Pendragon too!” Steve kept his eyes trained on the bacon, only looking up as Anthony addressed the fire. “Look at you, Jarvis! Being reasonable today?”

Jarvis hissed, two eyes peering out from under the pan. “He bullied me!”

“Isn’t this easier for everyone?”

Now, Anthony looked at Steve, raising a brow. “Who are you then?” “I’m Steve, your new housekeeper.”

Anthony didn’t say anything about it, just taking the wooden spoon from Steve’s fingers. “Let me do it. Pass me two more slices of bacon and six eggs.” Silently, and a little stunned, Steve dropped the bacon in the pan and handed Anthony the eggs. Cracking them into the pan, Anthony fed Jarvis the remaining shells.

“Delicious!”

Anthony looked back over his shoulder at Steve, almost studying him. “Who decided to let you be the housekeeper?” Steve just smiled, looking at the man. “Oh, that was me. I haven’t seen a dirtier house than this one.”

Anthony didn’t respond to that, he just looked at the boy. “Harley, dishes!”

Harley moved again, rummaging in drawers and pulling out plates, putting them onto the table before going back to rummaging around.

“Please join us, Steve.”

Steve nodded, walking over to the table and looking at Harley as he pulled back a chair for him. “Sit over here.” Anthony put the bacon and eggs onto the three plates, and Steve looked down at the selection of cutlery that Harley shoved his way. Three forks and one spoon. “These are the only clean ones.” Steve frowned and took the one spoon, sitting down. “I’ll have lots of work to do here...”

Anthony cut the loaf of bread into pieces, putting them on their plates. “Let’s eat.”

Harley grinned, looking at Steve. “We haven’t had a proper breakfast in ages!” He started eating with his hands, his mouth stained with yellow egg yolk and bacon grease. “I’ll have lots to teach you..” Steve mumbled, looking up as Anthony spoke to him. “So, what’s that thing in your pocket?”

Steve put his spoon down, frowning as he put his hand in his pocket, his fingers closing round a piece of paper. “Huh?” He pulled out a red card, frowning. “What’s this?”

Anthony looked at it, frowning as well. “Let me look.”

As Steve tried to hand it over, it suddenly went up in flames, falling onto the table as he quickly let go, searing a mark into the table. “It’s scorched! Mr. Stark, what is this?” He asked, looking at Anthony as he bend over the table to look at it more closely. “It’s old, powerful magic..”

“The Witch of the Waste!” Harley exclaimed, staring at Anthony.

“ _He who catches a falling star, is a heartless man. Your heart is mine._ ” Anthony recited, huffing before putting his hand over the mark. As he lifted his hand, the mark was gone. “It vanished!” Steve called out, and Tony shook his head.

“The mark is gone, but not the spell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this took a long time, I've been swamped with school work! Hopefully I'll be able to update again sometimes next week.


	5. The One With The Cleaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Steve settles into his new home, and his new job, he finds out just how mysterious Anthony really is. And how disgusting his castle is.

Anthony vanished about as quickly as the mark on the table had, getting up with a flourish, not looking at either of them as he walked over to Jarvis, shoveling the remainder of his breakfast into the gaping mouth of the flame.

“Jarvis, move the castle about 62 miles,”

Steve watched Anthony put the plate on the counter, before stomping upstairs to the mysterious upper level of this magical place. One more command rang out, yelled from the top of the stairs.

“And send hot water up to the bathroom!”

The fire demon made an offended sound, obviously not used to doing that much work for so little gratitude.

“That too?!”

Steve looked back to the window as he noticed a shape out of the corner of his eye, and he frowned as he realized that shape was Anthony, leaving the castle. Before he could wonder why the man had even asked Jarvis for hot water, Harley spoke up.

“Are you a follower of the Witch of the Waste, Mr. Steve?”

Steve scowled, hot anger making his face heat up as he thought about the wretched woman who had cursed him for no reason.

“Don’t be silly, I was-”

He choked again, and the dishes on the table rattled as he angrily slammed his fists down on the wood in frustration. “I was really.. God!”

Harley stared back at him with big, surprised eyes as he angrily muttered to himself.

“Damn you, Witch of the Waste, I’ll get my hands on her when we meet again! Let’s finish our meals!”

That last part was aimed at Harley, who quickly nodded and finished shoveling down his breakfast.

 

He sat, reading, while Steve washed up, only clearing out and rushing outside of the open door as he saw Steve grab a broom and tie a cotton handkerchief around his mouth.

Only seconds later, Steve started cleaning like a man possessed, knocking around dust clouds and making bugs scurry for safety, so rudely chased out of their comfortable hiding places.

Outside, Harley was approached by an elderly man, who paused only briefly to look at the terrible waves of dust escaping from the house, before turning to the boy again.

“Excuse me, I’d like to ask you to use a spell..."

Harley didn’t even bother to look up before answering,

“Ask me later, there’s a wild wizard rushing about in the house..”

 

Inside, unaware of any commotion, Steve kept cleaning, only looking back at the fireplace as Jarvis called out. “Steve, Steve! I need firewood! I’ll die if my flame goes out!” 

Steve put down the broom, approaching Jarvis, who eyed him suspiciously.

“W- what are you doing?”

The man scooped him up, leading to loud protests, putting him down on the pot which stood on the stove, which was used to collect the ash. “Be careful! I’ll fall down!”

“I’m just cleaning out the ash, I’ll be done soon.”

“No, no! I’m in danger!”

Steve tutted, sweeping the ash off of the stone slab and onto the floor.

“Be careful… I’ll be out… Oh no… I’ll fall… I’ll fall…”

Steve ignored him, cleaning the ash from the floor.

“I’ll fall… I’m in danger… Steve, hurry up!”

The demon let out a scream, before tumbling into the pot.

 

With a clatter, blocks of firewood dropped onto the floor, as Anthony picked up the pot and dropped Jarvis onto his hand.

Steve returned, finished with sweeping the ash outside.

Anthony looked at him, a look Steve couldn’t place in his eyes.

“Please don’t torment my friend so much.”

Anthony turned around, walking to the door, where Harley was just coming back inside.

“Are you going out, Mr. Stark?”

Anthony closed the door, looking back at the boy.

“Harley, please tell the housekeeper to clean in moderation.”

He left after turning the dial next to the entrance, closing the door with a loud slam.

Harley looked at Steve, frowning, obviously surprised. 

“Mr. Steve, did you do something bad?”

 

Before Steve could answer, Jarvis piped up, angrily.

“She teased me! If I die, Tony will do too!” 

Steve walked up to Jarvis, annoyed with the way everyone was suddenly responding to him. “I’m a housekeeper! To clean is my job!”

Still irked, he walked up the stairs, but was quickly thwarted by Harley pushing past him and blocking his path. “No! Don’t go upstairs!”

“If I were you, I’d put my precious things away in a hurry.” Steve grinned. 

Harley looked back up the stairs, before darting up the rest of the steps and vanishing into the hallway, a door slamming. “Do my room last!” 

He smiled.

 

As he moved up the stairs, he first went into the bathroom, the state of which stunned him into silence. The bath was the worst, completely covered in stains of different colors, with brownish water still in the tub.

He huffed, putting down his bucket and mop, before opening a window. 

A gasp escaped him, and he looked down. 

“Amazing! Jarvis, are you moving this castle?!” He called down, all annoyance forgotten and replaced by the sheer amazement he felt whenever he discovered something new about this place.

“Quiet! Of course I am!” Jarvis called back, and Steve grinned.

“You’re amazing, Jarvis! Your magic is first class!”

“You think so?!” Downstairs, Jarvis flared up proudly, coming as close to blushing as was possible for a fire demon.

 

Steve lost himself in the view, leaning out of the window for a while, nearly forgetting about all of his cleaning, before he saw something very strange sticking out of one of the open pipes on the exterior of the castle. 

“Harley! Something’s stuck in that hole over there!” He called back, walking out of the bathroom and onto the veranda next to the bathroom, leaning over the railing, where he could easily grab a hold of the stick. “Help me out here.” He told the boy, as he joined him. 

Pulling together, they heaved the stick up, jumping back as it flipped over and happily started jumping around on the veranda. It was Turnip-head, the scarecrow that had so gallantly helped him find this place.

“You get stuck a lot, huh?” He asked him, and the scarecrow didn’t respond, jumping up instead, until it was on the roof.

“He liked me, I think. He followed me, helped me find this place.” Steve explained to Harley, who gave him a look.

“Are you sure you’re not a wizard, Mr. Steve?” 

Steve smiled, looking at the boy. “Yeah, I am. The most tidy wizard in the country.”

 

When the castle stopped, by a lake, Turnip-head helped them dry the laundry, and Steve took the time to sit on one of the rickety chairs, giving his aching back a break and finding the inhaler in the pocket of his trousers.

He used to be able to do chores all day, until his fingers bled and his muscles ached and he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He had tenacity and he wanted to do a job right, even if it meant he needed to drain one inhaler a day. He didn’t care, he had something to prove, if he couldn’t do it in war, he’d do it like this.

Now he couldn’t even climb a flight of stairs in one go. Even his young, frail body, had been more capable than this one.

Once the washing was dry, they folded it, put it into the basket again, and went back inside.

 

* * *

 

_Somewhere in the sky, Anthony was looking down at burning houses. Glancing up, he could see the jets, dropping the bombs._

_The airship below him was dropping strange bird-shaped figures, and Anthony swooped down to attack them with a grin._

 

* * *

 

It was dark as he returned to the castle, dropping himself down into a chair in front of Jarvis, letting out a long sigh.

 “That smell… You reek of burning, iron..” The demon moaned, recoiling from the man.

 “If you keep flying so much, you won’t be able to turn back into yourself.”

 Jarvis reached over to the stack of firewood on the stone slab, pulling a log from it and positioning it under himself. “It’s good, huh? Steve did this for me.”

 “It’s a terrible war… It was an inferno from the Southern sea to the Northern border…” Anthony mumbled in reply.

 “I hate the fire in gunpowder, they don’t have any manners.” Jarvis said, grinning.

 “I was attacked by strange creatures.”

 “The Witch of the Waste?”

 

Anthony shook his head, staring up at the wooden beams. “No, it was an underling. But he had been changed into a monster.”

Jarvis remained quiet for a moment, before speaking again. “It’ll cry later. It won’t be able to turn back into a human.”

Tony shrugged, getting up. “It doesn’t care. It’ll forget how to cry.” He walked towards the stairs.

“You’ve been called upon by the King.”

Anthony stopped, looking back at the fire demon. 

“Oh well.”

He walked on, going up the stairs. “Send hot water up to the bathroom!”

 

“What, again?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!!!!! I was swamped with school even more, but luckily a lot of tension has dropped from my shoulders and I should be able to update a lot more now! 
> 
> If you're wondering why Tony wants the castle moved 62 miles, that's because it's a 100km and I'm European. But somehow, it felt off to me to have them use the non-American system since they're America based characters.....


	6. The One With The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve grows closer to Tony, and is asked to fulfill an important task for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how long it's been, but it felt really good to sit down and pick up the story again!

Steve woke with a start from his earned nap, staring as the genius wizard came running down the stairs, clutching his head desperately as he sank down in a chair opposite the fireplace.

 

“What did you do?!” he demanded, and he saw Harley hesitating on the steps leading into the living room, his nervous gaze on Steve.

 

He got the creeping suspicion that Anthony was speaking to him, and he looked at the wizard with feigned confusion.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly, guilt creeping into his mind. “I cleaned the house.” “You messed up my potions!” Anthony exclaimed, rather desperately. “Look at my hair! It’s ruined!”

 

He removed his hands, and Steve could see that his usually dark hair was now a bright shade of orange. “Oh.” But Tony wasn’t listening to him anymore, moaning to himself as he buried his head in his lap, miserable.

 

Suddenly, the house started shaking.

 

The lights from the windows vanished as a thick, goopy substance started running down the walls, dripping from the ceiling beams that Steve had so meticulously cleaned.

 

“What’s happening?” Steve asked, panic in his voice as he looked at Harley.

 

“His emotions are taking over the house! The last time this happened, a girl broke up with him!” Harley said, nearly stumbling over at his spot on the steps, as the room shook again.

 

Steve watched in horror, as the thick goop started enveloping the wizard, still sitting in his chair and mumbling to himself. He huffed as he made a quick decision, rushing over to the kitchen and filling up a wooden bucket.

 

He heaved it back to where Anthony was sitting, lifting it up. “That’s quite enough of that.” he said, before emptying the bucket over the man’s head.

 

It was quite the wake-up call, as the shock made Anthony shoot backwards, chair and all. The strange goop vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, and the wizard blinked up at Steve, a little weary.

 

“Let’s get you to bed, it’s been a long day.” The older man decided, ignoring the other’s protests as he got him to his feet.

 

It wasn’t completely effortless, and Steve audibly groaned. “This damn body..” he shot a glare at Harley, who quickly moved from his spot to help haul his master up the stairs. Once upstairs, the boy pointed out the correct door, and Steve was not quite prepared for what he found upon opening it.

 

Nuts, bolts, screwdrivers and machines of all kinds of different uses; flittering and flying. They were suspended from the ceiling, which was a glittering night sky, lit up with stars.

 

Thousands of shimmering buttons, screws and glowing cores of gutted machines littered the floor and were haphazardly pushed to the sides to create a path.

 

Drawings and blueprints were stuck to the wall, nearly hiding the wallpaper; which was the color of seaweed and had numerous dried flowers pressed into it.

 

The absolute centerpiece was a mobile hanging from the ceiling, depicting the suns, moons and planets that surrounded the earth. They were so artfully crafted, it made Steve wonder if Anthony had managed to shrink and trap the galaxy in his bedroom.

 

He stared at it for so long, in fact, that he nearly forgot the task at hand, until Harley cleared his throat. Steve snapped out of it, a little embarrassed. “Oh, right.”

 

Together, they managed to get Tony into his large bed, which nearly blended into the cacophonous whole. Steve dragged the thick blanket over him, unable to suppress a smile at the sight of only Tony’s head peeking out over it.

 

His wildly orange hair spread out over the pillow as bright as Jarvis’ flame, and he seemed far younger than he was. “There we are. Just get some rest, and tomorrow, everything will be fine.”

 

“Will it?” Anthony asked, and Steve raised a brow at him. “It better be, young man, or you’ll be washing away that goop yourself.” He said, before turning to guide Harley and himself out of the room. He didn’t look back as he closed the door, and in not doing that, he missed a very rare occurrence.

 

A genuine Anthony Stark smile.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Steve went to check on Anthony, finding the man upright in his bed, hair color restored and expression cheery. “Well, you seem to be feeling better.”

 

“I am, because I’ve had an amazing idea!” Anthony exclaimed, making Steve blink in surprise. “I have a feeling you’ll tell me.”

 

“You remember the letters I’ve been receiving from the King, don’t you?” Anthony asked him, and Steve nodded. They came daily, when the disk next to the door was at the right color, hand delivered by soldiers.

 

“They are summoning wizards, to fight in the war. I have no intention of enlisting, but they won’t let me leave the castle if I tell them myself. But you!”

 

Steve looked up from where he’d put down a cup of tea on the man’s nightstand, blinking slowly. “Me?” Anthony nodded, seizing his arms and looking at him with nothing but beaming excitement.

 

“You can pose as my father, go to the palace and tell them I’m too much of a coward to fight!”

 

“Me?!” Steve asked with disbelief, staring at the wizard. “Yes, it’s absolutely perfect.” “That’s not the word I would use..” Steve mumbled, and Anthony looked at him with surprise, which shifted into the most pleading expression Steve had ever seen.

 

Not even Bucky, begging for sweets as a young boy, looked that pleading.

 

“This is ridiculous.. sending an old man to the castle..” He sighed, shuffling out of the room and going down the stairs.

 

He froze as Tony wrapped his arms around him from behind, taking his hand and sliding a silver ring with red embedded stones on his finger. It fit perfectly.

 

“Please Steve, you are the only one who can do this for me..”

 

The younger man inside of Steve could feel his heart skip a beat, and he must have gone temporarily insane as he nodded. “Alright, alright..” He sighed as Tony let go of him, but he didn’t vanish upstairs just yet.

 

“That ring, it will connect you to Jarvis, so you’ll always find your way back here.”

 

He vanished then, leaving Steve to finish his chores, feeling lightheaded.

 

Anthony left somewhere during the afternoon, and he hadn’t yet returned as Steve laid out his mattress next to the fireplace.

 

* * *

 

_As Anthony returned, soot on his skin and the smell of smoke In his hair, he stilled in front of the fireplace, looking down at the young man with blonde hair, sleeping peacefully as Jarvis licked at a steady pile of logs._

 

_His face softened, and he carefully stepped around the mattress, before getting down onto one knee and stroking the man’s cheek. “I’m counting on you..”_

 

* * *

 

So now, Steve found himself on the Main Street of his city again, the wide and cobbled avenue leading in a straight line to the impressive castle.

 

He showed the letter that Anthony gave him to the guards, and entered the grounds. He froze as a box shaped carriage pulled up beside him, led by two shapes of black goop, in uniform.

 

The open window revealed the impressive figure of the Witch of the Waste, who removed herself from the carriage like water pouring out of a vase.

 

“You’re here instead of him, are you?” The woman asked, but he ignored her, leaning heavily on his improvised cane as he started to climb the impossible amount of stairs towards the front door.

 

He made it, somehow, but as he looked behind him, he could see the woman struggling. Taking his inhaler out of his pocket, he happily sucked in the puffs of oxygen, which left grainy residue on his tongue.

 

After putting his inhaler away, he studied the woman again, waiting a little impatiently.

 

She seemed to almost melt onto the steps, and it reminded him of her goopy guards. It was unsettling, and he couldn’t imagine that the King wanted her to fight for him, in a war no less.

 

As she reached the top of the stairs, sweat dripping off of her beautiful brow, he straightened up again, walking inside with her.

 

They were received by a young man with silver hair, leading them to a light reception room with a ceiling of glass, where sunlight reflected off of the tiled floor. In the middle of the room, there was a young woman, sitting in a wicker chair.

 

She had a simple red dress on, and a seemingly kind face, but there was something behind her eyes that made Steve rub at the ring around his finger.

 

He sat down on the wicker bench across from the woman, and the young man guiding them inside put down a tea set on the glass table in between them.

 

“My name is Wanda Maximoff, I am the Royal Sorcerer, and I will be serving as an extension of the King this afternoon..” The woman in red spoke, as tea had been served.

 

Her voice was clear, with a hint of an accent that Steve couldn’t place. “It’s clear to me that the Wizard Stark could not be in attendance himself, that’s a shame, but we’ll make do.”

 

She took a sip of her tea, the steam unable to conceal the sharp glare she gave the Witch of the Waste. It made Steve’s skin crawl, and by the way the woman next to him shifted, she could feel it too.

 

“I understand, Natasha Romanoff, that you don’t intend to fight for your King and country.. And on top of that, there’s the case of some.. unauthorized curses. Not to mention the horrendous dent in my reputation. They say you defeated me.” Wanda laughed, and Steve felt utterly cold, Natasha had gone pale next to him.

 

“Any witch or wizard that fails to fight.. you know the punishment.”

 

Natasha sucked in a sharp breath, and Steve looked at her, before looking back at Wanda. He wasn’t aware of the punishment, but it didn’t sound good.

 

“You, Natasha Romanoff, shall be stripped of all power and spend the rest of your days as a regular mortal woman, as a result of disobeying your King’s wishes and resisting to fight.” Wanda spoke, and the room went cold.

 


	7. The One With The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the mood shifts, Steve realizes he's in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, two chapters in two days!

Steve could only sit and stare as there appeared more of these young men, with their silvery hair, and the Witch of the Waste rose from the bench stiffly, an odd expression on her face.

 

One of absolute terror.

 

Steve wanted to speak up, but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat, much like the way he hadn’t been able to speak out about his curse at the kitchen table back with… Tony, and Harley.

 

He watched her get escorted out, a door closing behind the small group, before turning back to the Royal Magician, who was studying him curiously. “Pietro tells me you’re his father.”

 

Steve nodded, clearing his throat. “That’s right, my son sends his apologies.. I’m afraid he wouldn’t be of use to his Majesty.. at all.”

 

Wanda sighed, putting down her teacup. “Such a shame.. you see, Anthony was my favorite apprentice. I was sure I had found a worthy successor in him.”

 

Somehow, Steve found it hard to believe that the woman sitting in front of him was old enough to take Anthony on as a young apprentice, but then again, magic was potent and could often conceal someone’s true age.

 

“What happened?” he found himself asking, and he swallowed hard as she looked at him again, with that unreadable expression.

 

“A demon stole his heart, and he abandoned me. Now his magic is only used for selfish things..”

 

There was a heavy silence, and Steve nearly jumped as the woman spoke again.

 

“Sir, that boy.. is dangerous. His power is too great for one with no heart. If he follows that path, he’ll end up like the Witch of the Waste.”

 

She looked off into the distance, and Steve followed her gaze as she demanded “Bring her.” to one of the silvery haired young men, who must be named Pietro, who guided along a woman in the familiar fur coat and extravagant hat the Witch of the Waste always wore, but there was something missing.

 

She looked much older, and didn’t speak as they placed her back onto the bench. “What happened?” Steve asked her, staring at the pale faced old woman, whose red hair had faded, and hung lifelessly around her face.

 

“I restored her back to her real age, all her powers are gone. Long ago, she was a magnificent witch, but she made a deal with a demon. It consumed her, body and soul.”

 

Steve looked up from the Witch of the Waste, or Natasha, as she wasn’t a Witch anymore, to look at Wanda.

 

“Our kingdom can no longer afford to turn a blind eye to witches and wizards of no repute. If Anthony comes here to serve his kingdom, I’ll teach him how to break with the demon. If not, I’ll strip his powers, as I have done with her.”

 

“Now hold on just a minute.” Steve said, rising from the bench. “Now I see why Anthony wouldn’t come here, something’s not right. You force your aged guests to climb stairs, and force them to come to strange rooms. It’s like a trap.”

 

His face was going red, both from the emotions rising up in him and from embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop.

 

“You call Anthony heartless, and yes, he is selfish and scared and unpredictable, but he only wants to be free. There’s no evil bone in his body.”

 

Wanda still had that unreadable expression on her face as he continued on, even as he was starting to feel breathless. “Anthony won’t turn into a heartless monster, he’ll battle the demon on his own. I believe in him!”

 

What he hadn’t realized, during his heartfelt speech, was that the effects of the curse were fading as he spoke, and as he finished, he was back to his young self again.

 

“Sir, you’re in love with Anthony.” Wanda spoke, and Steve drew back, shocked, only to find himself growing old again. He nearly tripped as Natasha seized his shirt, falling off the bench in her haste. “Anthony’s coming? I want his heart, I want it!”

 

He stumbled back, staring at Natasha as she started weeping. “That’s enough, he’s not coming!”

 

“Anthony will most certainly come..” Wanda said softly, as the sound of a mini-plane roared overhead, a figure landing in the garden outside of their room, regal and unfamiliar to Steve. “..Now that I’ve found his weakness.”

 

The figure entered through one of the doors, and Steve could see Pietro bowing, although the reality didn’t set in until Wanda spoke again. “Your Majesty..”

 

“As you are, how are you feeling?” The man spoke, and Wanda smiled kindly. “Thank you for asking..”

 

“Meetings bore me, I decided to take a breather.” The King spoke, only then seemingly realizing there were other people in the room. “These are?”

 

“This is the father of the Wizard Stark..”

 

“I see.” The King said, walking up to Steve, who quickly remembered to bow.

 

“I appreciate it, but I don’t intend to win any war with magic. It’s true that Wanda’s powers shield our palace from bombs. But they just fall on neighboring towns instead. That’s how magic works, isn’t that right, Wanda?”

 

“Such eloquence today, Your Majesty..” The woman replied, a smile still on her lips.

 

“Wanda!” Steve stared as a familiar figure exclaimed, entering the room from the hallway, and the King entered, so enthralled in his letter that he didn’t seem to notice his mirror image. “This is the final battle. This time, we’ll beat them to a pulp!”

 

Not only that, but Steve also noticed a slight hint of panic on the face of the King standing in front of him. He held his breath as the King next to Wanda looked over, only to burst out into laughter. “Wanda, you’ve outdone yourself with that double. Await good news.”

 

“Thank you kindly..” She said quietly, bowing her head.

 

They all watched the King leave, a heavy silence in the room before Wanda spoke again. “Anthony, it’s been a while.”

 

Steve stared at Anthony, still disguised as the King, turned to Wanda and bowed. “I’m delighted to see you’re doing so well, Miss Maximoff.”

 

“I saw right through you.” She replied. Steve looked up at Anthony as the disguise dropped, and he was himself again, still in the King’s clothes. “I’ve kept my oath, I won’t fight you. I’ll just take my father and leave.”

 

“I won’t let you go.” Wanda announced, before tapping her staff on the ground.

 

There was water everywhere, as a gigantic ocean sprouted from the ground and washed over them, and there was a brief moment of panic before they went under, and Steve realized he could still breathe.

 

It didn’t last long, as the next scene suspended them in midair, and he could feel Natasha hanging off of him, the hat blowing off of her head.

 

“Don’t look down, you’ll be dragged below.” Anthony warned, and his grip tightened around his shoulders.”

 

“It’s time I show your father what you really are.”

 

A rain of twinkling stars started falling from the sky, combusting around them, until it had encircled them. An eerie chanting seemed to worm it’s way into Steve’s head as the wisps turned into shadowy humanlike creatures, linking their hands and dancing around them.

 

They cast long shadows, and made Steve feel dizzy. He could feel Anthony wobbling next to him, and he gasped as the hand on his shoulder swelled and burst out of it’s glove, turning into a large birdlike claw instead.

 

Thick, black feathers were sprouting from his face, as his teeth sharpened, and he groaned as big wings burst from his back. He growled, as Wanda appeared in front of them, and Steve pushed to put himself in front of the Wizard.

 

“Don’t, Tony! It’s a trap!” He covered the Wizard’s face with his hands, eager to protect him. He could hear the rushing sound of Wanda’s staff, yelping as his hat blew off his head, staying behind on the end of the woman’s staff as Tony took off with Steve in his arms and Natasha hanging off of Steve’s shirt.

 

They burst out of the glass ceiling of the palace, and as they landed onto the mini-plane, Steve could see that Tony was back to himself. “Hold on tight!” he urged them, before taking off and flying away from the palace.

 

“Steve, they’re after us. I need you to steer this thing, while I fight them off.” Tony said, handing the steering wheel off to Steve as he sat down on the seat.

 

“What?!” Steve demanded, and Tony smiled weakly. “I know you can do this, straight back to the castle in the Wastes.” “Tony, there’s no way-” “Use the ring, you have to summon Jarvis with your heart.”

 

“My heart?” Steve asked, looking down at the ring. He gasped as it started glowing, a light beaming out of it, like a piece of string. “I can give you five minutes of invincibility, that’s your chance.”

 

“My chance? Tony!” He yelled as the plane split off, a mirror image of them going the opposite reaction, with Tony still on it, who saluted them.

 

Steve groaned, steadying the plane, looking back at Natasha for a moment before going higher up in the sky and looking at the light, guiding him home.

 

Back in the palace, Pietro pulled the staff out of the wicker bench, giving it back to Wanda.

 

“Thank you. That’s the most fun I’ve had in ages. I suppose Anthony thinks he’s escaped...”

 

She smiled down at the hat, as Pietro handed it to her.

 

“His father’s awfully young.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about this fic on tumblr: I'm tonystarklyfe!!


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